


The Cost of Compassion

by andrean182



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 10:26:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6902119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andrean182/pseuds/andrean182
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To serve a Prime is an honour. It is the highest of honours, the heaviest of burdens, no matter who you are. Even for the Prime’s bondmate. And to disappoint your Prime is the gravest of mistakes, the worst of doings...<br/><br/>Even then, the Prime shall not be the Prime if he does not possess the ability to forgive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cost of Compassion

**Author's Note:**

> Ahahahaha *faceplants* I was going to write some office scene and this happened instead. I feel sorry for Magnus tho ;_;  
> But don't blame me! Someone has to give him a pat on the back.  
> This is set in an AU where the war has ended and Optimus and Magnus become bondmates, just take it as IDW but Magnus was a tad bit smaller than Optimus. I also take his G1 design, except for his enormous optiques O_o  
>   
> Ah anyway, enjoy ;_;

Ultra Magnus stood in front of Optimus’ desk in his office, hands clasped behind his back, looking at the thoughtful optiques of his Prime. He was slightly trembling, afraid of what might Optimus say after reading his report, his failure on the last mission. One which his bondmate himself gave to him.

“Hmm...” the Prime’s deep voice rumbled in the room, making the truck tremble more. If anyone entered the office, he would scream at him to get out. Suddenly, Optimus’ gaze swept over him, making Ultra Magnus froze in his place, deliberately trying not to look away, and to keep his faceplate void of any emotion. It was pointless anyway; the other truck would’ve known how he felt through the bond. And he was sure Optimus saw him trembling.

“You have failed on your mission.”

It was not a question, a query. It was a statement. One that made the commander’s frame tremble again. Optimus looked back down to the datapad, still reading it. “Not only you have failed, but you have let a warehouse full of packages of construction-level hoverboard, a block of residential houses, half of a bridge, and, _Primus_ , an _entire_ district be blown away.” Optimus tapped the desk with his digits. “Ten million casualties, nearly _a third_ of them died. Those who lived lost their home.”

Magnus tensed, his hands behind his back very tightly.

“Did you not heed my previous advice? Thunderhoof is maybe just one bot, but he possessed many who follow him. His criminal community is not called «the most dangerous crime syndicate» for no reason. And the same goes for his title of «the most dangerous mob boss»”. Optimus put down the datapad in his hand, a frown on his faceplate. Magnus tried to probe the bond, but on Optimus’ side, he found only confusion, sadness.

Disappointment.

"I trusted you not to fail on this mission, because I was sure you were able to handle it."

Optimus Prime put both his hands on his chin, looking thoughtful, his bright blue optiques stared right to the dim blue ones of the commander. Magnus fought the urge to look away, to search for something else to stare at other than his Prime’s optiques. But it would be disrespectful, not to mention rude. His Prime was speaking to him, and who was he to look away?

“I put you in charge to learn responsibility, and yet you still fail? You could have prevented the bomb from exploding and saved the bridge. It is Central Iacon district’s main bridge; its collapse could lead to delayed shipments and transportation. Not to mention that Central Iacon is Iacon’s most visited district for tourism. And not only that, you have caused an _entire_ district of South Iacon be blown away. So, tell me, Ultra Magnus,” he flinched at the mention of his name. “what happened until the High Commander of Cybertronian Police couldn’t stop one bomb from exploding?”

This time, he did look away. He couldn’t bear to see his Prime’s face anymore. “I was at the bridge, supervising the evacuation of civilians. I did not even know there was a bomb until one of my officers told me. And I was too late to go to the warehouse.”

Optimus Prime nodded softly, his faceplate was still void of expression save for a frown. “And what were you doing by, you say, supervising?”

“I was just... looking at them, sir. I...” Magnus looked down. “I’m lost to my senses. I should have checked the area whilst my officers took care of the civilians.”

“Look at your superior when they are talking to you.” Optimus warned him, but he detected no anger or taste of disrespect. He knew he had failed, ‘fragged up’, humans would say. And failing led to one thing he didn’t want. One thing he desperately wanted to avoid.

“I’m disappointed in you, Ultra Magnus.”

After those words were spoken, Magnus looked up, optiques suddenly bright. He stared at Optimus; his Prime’s optiques weren’t even looking at him. Optimus was looking down, optiques dim; disappointment was clear in his faceplate. Magnus opened his mouth to speak, but no sounds came out. He felt ashamed of himself, he had all his fingerprint in this case. He had failed his Prime.

Optimus stood up, not looking at him. He stared at the window, his back was now facing the commander. His broad, strong shoulders were dropped in sadness. “I’m disappointed in you.”

“Optimus, I—I’m sorry, sir—”

“Stand down, Ultra Magnus.”

“It was a m-mistake—Optimus! p-please let me f-fix this...! There sh—...”

“ _You_ have caused the destruction of a public property, a residential area, and a public bridge. And, for the love of Primus, an _entire_ district you have let be blown away.” The Prime spoke again, not even looking at him. It made the commander flinch and tensed, looking back down, lipplates clamped together. No, he must _not_ cry before his Prime! He could feel fog began to form behind his optiques. But no matter how hard he tried, he felt like he was beginning to cry. “ _You_ have caused a delay in shipments and inability for civilians of Central Iacon district to travel directly to nearby city-states for at least, as you say so yourself, a surorn, one-third of a year. _You_ have caused the loss of home for 30 families of civilians. _You_ have led to the loss of nearly half a million shanix. _You_ have caused the destruction of an entire district, nearly three million died. I couldn’t even calculate how much the loss to the Primacy that costs. And _you_ have demonstrated disrespect to your direct superior by disobeying a direct order, and failure to heed their advice.”

Optimus sighed. “How are _you_ going to fix all of that?”

Magnus whimpered softly, trying hard not to fall on his knees. Those words pierced through his spark like knives, each word stabbed him. He had caused those... he made a mistake and led to those... he had disappointed his Prime. It was hard to see Optimus’ face, though he could imagine it, the pain, disappointment, sadness, confusion... hate. Suddenly, images flashed in his processors... the surprised and fear of the civilians, their loss, their fear... them seeing the ruins of their home... them crying for the death of their loved ones... then the images of Optimus Prime... the laughs, the times together, the smiles... and he now he made him like this...? It was one kind of betrayal.

Looking at Optimus hurt, it hurt his spark. It made his spark spun fast. Still, nothing came across the bond. Optimus must’ve kept everything from flowing through it. He kept expecting Optimus to tell him to get out of his office, to get out of his sight forever for causing such huge damage. But Optimus merely stood there, looking at the city beneath him.

“Didn’t the War teach you about responsibility? Didn’t _I_ teach you about responsibility?”

Magnus felt his knees went weak. He trembled at the words. He had been being Optimus’ _right hand_ , for frag’s sake. He had been the Autobot _Second in Command_. He was one of the finest warriors the Autobots had to offer; even most Decepticons trembled just by hearing his name. He’d taken responsibility much bigger than this before, why couldn’t he take this? Why couldn’t he take one this small? Compared to the risk of losing a planet by losing the war, this was far smaller. He whimpered again, louder this time. The proof was here; he couldn’t be given responsibility ever again.

“Do I need to strip you out of your title to teach you about responsibility?”

He tightened his lipplates. His hands were clasped so tightly behind his back until it hurt. His frame was very tense; some joints he felt hurt and begging for decrease in tension. He couldn’t stop whimpers from escaping his lipplates. Finally, his knees gave up. The commander fell to his knee, hands covering his faceplate in a pitiful attempt to muffle his whimpers. Tears began to form in his optiques, falling to his hands. It was not the direct meaning of those words that made him fall; it was the indirect meaning. Even after his mistake, _after_ he disappointed his Prime, he still offered him his mercy; by offering him to learn, even if it cost his rank. It was an act of compassion.

“Not only you have just disappointed me, you have disappointed me _personally_.”

“O-Optimus, p-please...”

The Prime didn’t even give away any hint that he heard him. He kept looking at the window, to the darkening sky of Iacon; not even his digits moved. Magnus sobbed, hands groped forward to reach his Prime’s.

“You are dismissed.”

Magnus jerked at the words. He pulled his hands back to himself, staring at the unmoving frame of Optimus, his bondmate. He sagged against the empty air, his frame was loose, unlike a few moments ago. _So this is what regret feels like._

“Optimus, p-please... I-I ca—”

“Did you not hear me? You are dismissed.”

Knowing better than to disappoint his Prime further, the commander stood up with his unstable legs, trying to cease his sobbing, and left the room, not even bothering to close the door.

In the room, Optimus sat back on his seat, his faceplates in his hands, trying to hold back a cry.

**Author's Note:**

> ~~  
>  I'm ashamed of this.  
>  ~~


End file.
